Page 48 of Hot Receiver

But suddenly it hits me that I’m just as much at risk as Zak or the rest of the team. My future isn’t anywhere close to being sewn up, and that dickhead Travers carries my sin with him everywhere he goes.

I need the win as much as the other guys.

I need every win, if I’m being honest.

You never know when the other shoe’s gonna drop.

“It’s been a little crazy lately with all the bad press. The team’s struggling.”

“What does your new owner have to say about it? Or is he too busy making trouble to address it?”

I grit my teeth and push back my hair. “He’s…got a lot of shit going on.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me. He needs to remember he’s responsible for a hell of a lot more than just keeping his pride intact.”

Why do those words grate on me so damn much? Because they’re true? Or because I’m partially the cause for why he’s been radio silent, and that means I’ll be partially to blame if the team tanks today?

Oh, Christ.

That hit home.

Clarity. What a bitch.

“Yeah, well, hopefully he’ll keep that in mind and show up for the team today.”

I can hear her even breathing through the phone.

“So… are we still good for the benefit tomorrow night?”

She wants reassurance that I’m not gonna flake out and leave her hanging.

Can’t blame her. I haven’t been right since Zak Kacey showed up at the fundraising event for Jase and Lucas, and I’m running out of stories to tell her about why I can’t sleep with her.

“Still good. I, ah, I’m sorry for being so out of it lately. There’s a lot of…stuff happening.”

So much that she can’t ever know.

“I get it. Hopefully, we can let off some steam together tomorrow night.” But even as she says it, I’m conjuring up images of me riding Zak’s fat cock. And even though it’s wishful thinking because he kicked me to the curb, it makes me realize I can’t keep leading Anna on. Sure, we went into this without a commitment, but I can sense her getting in deep.

I need to stop her from taking the plunge.

And that means letting her go.

The fuck with Marc’s public relations plan.

If we start kicking ass, the fans will stand by us. Screw the haters. This game is ours.

After a quick shower, I get dressed and jump into my truck. The ride to the stadium is only about twenty minutes or so from my place, so it’s a quick trip. I slow down at a red light and my dashboard lights up with an incoming call from my mother.

My throat tightens. I click on the Accept call button.

“Ma? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, sweetie. Everything is… well, as good as it can be, I suppose.”

I clench the steering wheel. “You’re lying. I can hear it in your voice. What happened?”

A tearful sigh comes through the speakers, my heart thumping harder with each second she doesn’t speak.

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